


New Tattoo

by MsSolo



Category: Generation X (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSolo/pseuds/MsSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Paul Beaubier is sick of himself, mooning over Bobby. What he needs is a nice bit of eye-candy to be his TA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during the brief period of time when Jono had a face, courtesy of Weapon X (and might be a little bit AUish now, what with him apparently having spent that period as a brainwashed assassin). It's written as a series of drabbles (100 word shorts), from alternating points of view.

Jono has very long legs, and slim hips, and wears long slung trousers that show off the top of a tattoo. He has broad shoulders and almost shoulder-length chestnut hair, and cheekbones you could sharpen knives on. He has, for the first time in a long time, a long, slender nose, and soft, full lips, and a sharp, strong jaw. He wears mostly black, some leather, and still tends towards polo-necks that he can hide inside.

Jean Paul decides he wants to fuck him the first time they pass each other in the corridor at Xavier's. And Jono knows it.

* * *

He’s always maintained that he’s bisexual, but there’s something in that rush of disinterested lust that makes him nervous. Everyone knows that Northstar love Iceman, right? And Chamber loves Husk.

Jean Paul is about his height, not slender but not barrel-chested like some blokes here. He has powerful thighs, and wicked cheekbones, and a very firm bum. And Jono knows all this, because Jono is bisexual, and can appreciate men. Especially men with the sharpest sense of humour he’s found on this side of the Atlantic.

It’s just... well, he’d never really thought he’d actually want to fuck a man.

* * *

Jono has a new tattoo, and he’s teasing Jubilee with it. She plays along, and they’re having a right laugh as she tries to find it. They’re in the kitchen, maybe not the best place for flirty games, and more than a few people wander through.

Jono senses Jean Paul before he sees him. He moves, almost sub-consciously. Hips still tilted towards Jubilee, twist the spine and look over one shoulder, curtain of hair falling across his eyes. Lip bite. Shirt rucked up, trousers almost falling off. Hint of a nipple ring (he has nipples now).

“New Tattoo.” And smile.

* * *

You can’t convince him Jono doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, half undressed, smiling like that. Showing himself off at the best possible angle.

Jean Paul knows it’s been a long time since he last got laid, but this is ridiculous. He folds his hands in front of his coat – in front of his crotch – and manages a disarming smile.

But imagine it, really. What is he, twenty one, two? That long, firm, body. Warm eyes. Wicked sense of humour. Intelligent. Young. Willing to be taught, eager to gain more experience. Teasing him.

* * *

Jono has butterflies as he walks towards Jean Paul’s classroom. He’s proud of them. He has somewhere to have butterflies, now.

He still doesn’t know what he’s thinking, requesting a transfer like this. He doesn’t know the first thing about business, apart from a few things he picked up from people like Gayle and Sugar’s team. All he knows is that he fancies him, and it’s new and different and, importantly, not Paige. He’s just looking to explore it, and apparently he’s being indulged. Jean Paul doesn’t even need a TA.

But he said yes. That’s important: he said yes.

* * *

This is almost torture. Magnificent, addictive torture, torture that he brought upon himself and can’t bring himself to give up again. Jono, all day long. Flirting. Hoping.

He spends his breaks on the roof, thinking guiltily of Bobby. He loves Bobby. He wants to spend his life with Bobby. He wants to be the person Bobby deserves.

He just wants to fuck Jono. That’s the difference.

Sometimes, though, the fantasies keep going after he has had his release, and get dangerously close to territory he has reserved for Bobby. Jono, afterglow, lazy conversations, quick wit, curiosity. Sleeping in his bed.

* * *

He dreams Northstar’s fantasies. It’s something about spending so much time with him, a side affect of JP’s own telepathy. Too narrow to train, teach to shield, so he’s broadcasting on some obscure frequency, and Jono never meant to tap into it but he can’t tap out. Jono dreams his wankfantasies and wet dreams. Sometimes - only because he’s dreaming, he swears - he plays a more active role in them. Once, he dreamed his way into a fantasy about Bobby; in his sleep he could feel Jean Paul’s confusion. Jono worries he’s developing his own crush on Bobby as a result.

* * *

Logan says something, and JP finds himself thinking about how Jono would reply. He chaperons some students to a movie, and imagines Jono muttering at the screen. He eats out in town, and thinks of the restaurant as a place Jono would like.

That’s not just sex. That’s not lust. It’s frightening, because Jono actually likes him. It’s been a long time since Jean Paul’s felt anything other than unrequited.

He finds himself alone with Bobby one evening, watching television. The woman on screen makes a sarcastic comment, and with a sudden pang Jean Paul hears Jono’s laughter, not Bobby’s.

* * *

He can feel the change in Jean Paul, but it’s not right. Jean Paul avoids him, snaps at him, pushes him away.

Jono hates himself for doing it on principle, but he goes out and buys a copy of JP’s autobiography. It tells him nothing. Wolverine, on the other hand…

He confronts JP.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship? Not just for sex?”

“What the hell makes you think that is any of your business?”

“Before Alpha Flight, right? Or never?”

Jean Paul stops talking to him altogether for a while, but it’s actually worth it.

* * *

“Unrequited love. It never has to change, it never has to grow old, it never has to die.”

Jean Paul looks up from his desk. Jono is leaning on the back of one of the chairs. He has dressed, Jean Paul knows, with intention to seduce.

“Your Bobby is never going to hurt you: he’ll never snap, he’ll never age, he’ll never meet someone else. Your Bobby will do what you want, when you want. Real people aren’t like that, I do realise.

“I just want to know: what scared you away, JP? Who hurt you?”

“Raymonde Belmonde. He died.”

* * *

There’s someone in LA imitating him, pretending to be him pre- Weapon X. He has to check it out. That means leaving. He always felt most inclined to declare love to people at times of separation.

Something’s changed between them, since the Raymonde conversation. They’d gone out a few nights later, in a group, but somehow they’d drifted apart from the others, and Jean Paul had started to talk. He hadn’t cried, but sometimes he had sounded like he was.

He shouldn’t be gone long. LA, though. Memories of Skin. He has to say a proper goodbye, just in case.

* * *

He still loves Bobby, maybe always will, but when Jono knocks on his door he invites him in without a word.

He knows Jono’s going on a trip: there was paperwork he had to sign. He doesn’t need to hear ‘goodbye’.

He digs his fingers into Jono’s t-shirt, and pulls him close. Presses his lips over Jono’s; is this his first kiss in years? Jono kisses back, puts tentative hands on Jean Paul’s waist. Jean Paul can’t help grinning into the kiss: Jono might have plenty of experience with women, but he needs guidance here. Jean Paul will teach him.

* * *

JP has one hand undoing Jono’s belt, one playing with his nipple ring. The trousers won’t come off past the boots, but Jono can’t articulate this. Jean Paul pushes him, and they sprawl on the bed. It takes JP mere micro-seconds to remove Jono’s boots, and suddenly he’s naked. JP isn’t; JP’s grinning.

He wants everything, and he wants it all now. JP vibrates against him, sheen of sweat, fire in his chest, hands on every inch of his skin. He begs. He wants to know, to be taught, to learn and do it to JP. They have all night.

* * *

Jean Paul watches Jono try and get out of bed. The sheets are stuck to his stomach, and he pulls them away with an expression of mild disgust. He sits up, and then doesn’t. Sore. There’s dark circles under his eyes and he smells of dried sweat and his hair is glued to his forehead.

Jean Paul can’t count the times, doesn’t know what would count. Jono had passed out sometime before dawn. C’est Fantastique.

Of course, Jono’s leaving. That’s why this happened. But, now it has happened, Jean Paul thinks it might happen again. He looks forwards to it.  



End file.
